Lyssa's Essence
by EmeraldFlight
Summary: The Reason exists within us all. But only those gifted largely with the Reason can comprehend the results of a member so highly ranked in the IGM. Are you the one? My five-part epic about love, loss, and life in a little town called what.
1. Just Stop Reading

And this was all that what was said.

Thank you.

So northeastways, there was pony. Her name was a movie like Twalight. And it was damn important that her friends, coworkers, admirers, and lady parts addressed her such. She had a title, but it was pointless and concerned garage. Why would garage? She lives in a bucking teahouse.

One time, there was a package on her front porch. Sadly, it was not, in fact, a testicles. But she felt like picking it up anyways, and pick it up she did. She picked it up hard. So hard.

She reached inside without thinking because that's just what genius unicorns do. And zombies should've happened. But they didn't. When you the mayonnaise and the mustard, you can't relish it. It wasn't her fault. The point was, inside was a magical orange. She knew it was magical because she did and because she was magic, she didn't have to explain shit. Religion? Phhhht. Science? Out the Celestia-damned window. She laughed as she examined her present from her secret admirers and lady parts.

There was a glimmer to the orange that she had. She had it because she was magic and we've gone over this, you ass-hats. You know what was behind the lights? It wasn't God. It was the orange. So she woke the buck up.

(lol she was awake I füld ū)

The orange was. It had been for all of eternity, and because of this, whenever that delectable purple mare who didn't have a wing or a you lookied at it, she felt a feeling in her feelable feels that feelings couldn't have felt be-five. When Spike heard her moaning, he sun. He just up and sun. The rude little spinebiter.

Henceforth, Authorpony called him Steve and because now stop asking.

One trick pony's only got one song, and one trick pony plays it all night long. One trick pony never tries something new, withered no way in hell it's me. It's you. You. Twilight could read the script so she said what she had to.

"Hinge?" she asked quietly, her voice wavering and a small tear falling down her face of caramel reasoning caramel is good.

"Yes, Twilight. 'Tis I, Celestia. I am, as I was have said that. It was because of you that Ireland submitted to me, and for that I am partially grateful." Orange of Time snickered. "Get it? Grate. For 'tis I, Orange Celestia."

Twilight fell apart. Literally. It was pretty messy. But then she recovered her hooves because they were cold and went back to sleep.

(LELZ I FÜLD Ū AGÉN)

Twilight was shocked that Prince Man could know so much about her. Too bad this isn't a clopfic. Am it right. Am I.

So then Prince Man, the orange who was her as well, shouted. He didn't speak ponese, so they all had a moment where they had a screech. They all went into themselves and came out a little cleaners. It was the Janitor's fault, that lanky bastard.

Steve hung himself as Steve hung himself. Twilight screeched for a moment as she went into herself then suddenly became in-character. She her. "What - what's going on?" she cried, holding a slime-covered hoof to her forehead. "Oh, my head... Spike?"

"WHOO!" Spike yelled back, stretching his hung himself out of proportion. This angered the great Orange of... (what did I say before? *checks* ... Oh) Time, who had dessert over his dead body in three minutes' time. But Authorpony is getting ahead of himself.

I bet the Spanish guy's having a hard time.

Orange of Time looked up from her newspaper. "Why are we still inside?" s/he asked Twilight Cat (imma be a joke stealah). "I want to feel the cool wind on my naked body. Also we may might meet other of the main cast characters who will come in handy in developing the plot."

"Plot?" Twilight asked, her voice raisining. "What do you mean, 'plot'?! How are you talking?" She scrambled eggs to her hooves and straddled over to the small orange on the Pedestal of Time. "Who's talking through you? Celestia? Pinkie, is this you?"

"Ou, you jest, dearie," Prince (Woah.)Man replied in a srs tone. "I'll go get Pot. Not the droog, but the fanservice instrument." S/he chucknorrisled. "Bam. Bing. Your memory is back. Soomee, I don't rhyme. But you know what? In the grander scheme of things, there's an ideal that exists on its own plane, one that cannot exists nor can be created. It is Honesty, friends. And if it can win out in the end, and it can, then I'll be here tomorrow to try to stop making bad cartoon references."

Twilight who out of characterness was back began to grammar as she'd never grammared previous or since. zhomyqod! she shauted. d1s izz sooo kul hau u kin du thez thngz!1! zhomyqod.

And Prince Man-lestia was thereby pissed. S/he pissed into buckets for all the children of Indonesia to enjoy. It almost had remind of that autism joke Nostalia Man made. The buckets became an instant memory ique test for the indispensible and unpissable a movie like Twalight.

Scene hanchangegs as chit.

Suddenly uncolour. Backstreets. Dem boys.

"Hey, Johnny, how's about another one of them root beer floats?" Twilight asked cheerfully.

"Eh, you've got quite a bit of moxie in comin' back around this joint, champ." Orange of Tiem replied, slamming its hoof on the counter because oranges have hooves. "Tell ya what, Snake, I'll serve ya just this once, and we'll try our best to bury the hatchet."

"You've got me there, good chap. Can't say that's not a good deal, there. I mean, gee, Eddie, that's some mighty good root beer float that you of make do."

An alarm sounded in the distance. Samuel knew what two short rings meant: there was an eighty-three twenty going down somewhere in the Fabric. Someone had broken given character. The crack team he was on was full of poor bastards. One of the stallions was frightful sight: one eye gone, blown away with his left hoof in one fell swoop. It was just a taste of the madness they had to deal with.

The copter landed twenty miles due north of the given objective. Without another word from the commander, the intercom went dead silent. He knew it was for stealth, but always felt such a chill run through his spine when it happened. He hoped none of the other inmates could sense his fear. He could be beaten or shanked upon their return to the prison - or worse. He'd seen blood - sanguine life-force that had grown full red and sticky with age - splattered about the odd bathroom stall every so often.

He knew that his job was for the greater good, but he felt he would never be able to get fully behind it. There was too much death and destruction. He levitated his weapon over to himself while letting out a quiet sigh, which he quickly turned into a vicious snort. Weakness would not be tolerated.

The team sped through the woods with the leg power they'd been building up for centuries. This interdimensional 'purgatory' had always frightened him [as mentioned in the last chapter, obviously], but he forced himself to endure the scenes this time around. He tried to prove to himself it was just another job, just another assignment.

But his more gifted peer caught on to his fear. "Hey, Parker," he whispered raspily, just over the din of the wind in their ears. "You scared?"

Samuel spit to the side, watching as the black flame cut through the air like a knife through butter. "Fuck you, Orange."

Orange of Time replied. Then Samuel was a dragon because thats what dragons do, they morph from pownies. That's what they do. Twilight had tea in her masses, because she was a masses. I could make a joke that she was a Catholic church, but she said naw and lol, so I can't now.

"The sun is shining every day," s/he replied to Nostalia Man who had been there.

"Could you repeat that plz" said Twilight, who stopped being a bad gom grems joke and started being a bad gammar.

"Fuck you, Orange," Samuel replied, before looking off to his left confusedly. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry," he apologized quietly to Authorpony, receiving nothing but a groan in response.

"Get over here," Authorpony said firmly, pointing a hoof at the floor. Samuel walked over to Authorpony, cursing his own stupidity and pulling off his mask. "Look," Authorpony said, waving over the script. "You guys are all running, Twilight and the orange are flying beside you, and you remain silent until about the 'Clockfaces can't be dangerous' line from the orange."

Seeing the look on his son's face, Authorpony sighed. "Okay, look. You're good at this. Really. But we only have a limited amount of film. Only 1673 words, I think. We can't waste these." Samuel's face brightened. "Now get back in there, buddy."

"Oh, shit, Mr. Authorpony?" the cameraman asked worriedly. "How many words did you say we had?"

"1673," Authorpony replied, his voice dropping to a whisper. "What the fuck did you do, Greg?"

"I was... recording that. I thought it would be a good outtake."

"GREG, YOU ABSOLUTE


	2. Just Canned Reading

Pangle pangle pangle.

Now, where was I?

Oh, okay. So here we are with a Twilit and a this-orange. They are both important to the importance.

We start out with suddenly, a movie called Twalight's middle name is Pirandello. It's only because the this-orange who is God said so. She begins to pace around the library. All of the libraries. She looks up at the orange she looks up to. "What do I do? You did it!" she exclaiming.

"Cracka, I ain't got time for your shit," the God-Empress replies from the this-orange. "I'm waiting for my newspaper. It should arrive here shortly and soon."

"But those are the same-word!" a movie called Twalight replied exassperatedly. (get it it's funny because it has ass in it)

"I understand"""""

"Do you?" Spike replied. "Do you, or do I? You am no real super sand, bro."

"Cracka, I ain't got time for your shit," the God-Empress replies from the that-orange. "I am."

Suddenly, our heroes are in Applejack. It's very refreshing. It tasted like cough syrup, but that's open to interpretation. Luna didn't exist. Everyone was sad. Because Luna is important and stuff, and if she didn't happen, I'd do. You overstand, right?

Twiligh looked up at the ceiling-cheese. It was covered with cheese. But that was okay with her. There was an explosion of teats that made her sad, as though Luna had un-existed again. God, goddamn, goddammit, I'm choking on the celery of my thoughts.

Applejack is a train station. It tasted like cough syrup again. Twilight was levitating the orange of importance before her. Suddenly, it became very dark. Everypony died and so did their parents and Fluttershy cried. Then it became un-dark. It was not sad. Everypony stopped being dead and their hearts were filled with e. e. cummings.

anyone lived in a pretty how town

(with up so floating many bells down)

spring summer autumn winter

he sang his didn't but he danced his did

Poem break was over. Twilight cuddled up on god-orange's lap. "Aw, is it finished already?" she whined.

The orange replied with a word that wasn't a word but sounded like one and Twilght felt something warm in her up-skidoodles. She felt uncomfortable around the god-orange. "Spike?" she called out for him as I mentioned.

"WHOO!" Spike replied. He wasn't able to say much else since he stretched out his hung-himself.

Our budget has fallen like Prime. We will be back shortly, but after we


	3. Justin Reading

Epic opening.

A movie called Twalight was not impressed with Authorpony, but she did have a feeling for him which was hatred. Author pony was disappointed but then he took his son and put him and sat down and watched theports network. Their house was like the house that was the tree, but at the same time was not a lone.

Twilight was feeling the lone and wondering about it's beautiful she cried. Suddenly, the Spike that was of her turned into House (not the lone kind nor the Authorpony's kind). House-Spike cried, "I!"

Twilight cried in response. The god-orange felt this heartbreak and decided to want to go onto holiday. Stem looked on in amazement as -

Wait.

Let's go over our characters.

We gots the Twalight movie who's also a non-shit-explaining unicron, a Spike who is a spinebiting Steve, a orangey-borange who is both, thas'ri', BOTH, Purncess Celestina and Prince Man. Then there's Authorpony who is interpreted, and a few side characters who notable mention they have none.

So Twouble with Twibbles goes down to the shop and touches Authorpony's peen. Authorpony is not okay with this, so she is disapparated and goes to touch Ray Billy Johnny's peen. Ray Billy Johnny is partially okay with it, but he's high so the world is just rightable and a-okay.

Suddenly, the world explodes without a McDoubt. Twilight, who is, after all, a pony, is altogether unconcerned; she can't help but Walken into where the explosion was and say 'good morning' to Sean Connery, who is there and may have initiated said explosion but it's indefinite without further evidence.

"Good morning, Mistress," Twilight begins, forcefully forcing a forced cHUCKle out of Connelly.

"How the shit," he replies, "am I supposed to deal with such a forced hand?"

Twilight just(inreading) shakes her head and cHUCKles. She puts down her cards and walks over to him. Authorpony sighs, and sits back in the stained green chair. "Jesús de Cristo," he groans. "Why do you always have to interrupt stuff, Connery? We were having such an uninterrupted night."

"Except the owl," god-orange mentioned, elbowing Authorpony.

"Yeah, fuck that owl," Authorpony replied with a nostril twitch and a Van Gogh.

"Excuse me, princesses," Twilight said angrily, turning towards the pair. "That _owl_ just _happens_ to be my fiancé. And he wasn't trying to stir anything up, he just put the bean dip on the wrong Pakistan effigy."

"I thought you -" Prince Man-lestia coughed and coughed again and coughed again. "I thought you were in lesbians with a lot of other ponies," he coughed and coughed again.

"No." Twilight replied.

"No," Twilight replied "No." "That's Authorpony's fault and all his fault and nopony else's else is at fault."

"That makes all the sense," concurred Sean Conley. "Once, I was at a-"

"Doesn't give a bloop, Conners," the god-orange implywooded.

"Oh no," the movie called Twalight muttered reproachfully and intrinsically.

Card flew all around the room and gasped individually. Authorpony again-groaned. "God - goddamn - godimmiz."

Connery laughed pneumonically. "I'm sorry for your hippopotomonstrosesquipidalianism," he cHUCKled.

Authorpony spoke in a German and went all sad a second, but then he wasn't there. He coughed again.

Suddenly, Twilight paused. Her iPod was odd. She looked at it and groansighed. There were three songs in a row that all had the same first two words. Her OCD acted ups and she was insulted. But there was no way to fix it, Felix, because that's the way the alphabet works.

She unpaused, but at the time she was in her basement. There were cats, but Twilght was not one of them. Birds of a nonsequential feather flock. In groups. She took a rock and

I already got

Two cars in the yard that don't run. So why would I wanna break shit down

For you? Better be confused with the punchlines and bars that I launch

Here the king of forgery come, wit' a cracka dick ta fuck you and that pu-

Fffffffffffffffff

AND I'M IN A BLUE CHEVY

RUNNIN' OVER MOTHERFUCKERS IN FIRST

I AIN'T EVEN SHIFT GEARS YET

I AIN'T EVEN HERE YET, I'M outta this earth

Twilight cursed her own ineptitude and flew off in searh of adventure in Venezula, which she couldn't quite acquire because the Dude, who was wearing the entire cabana, was in her pool with a banana and Ridely Scott.

She groansighed. (füld u she jus groaned) The Dud was now the Chick, and lesbians happened to her for a nonsequential reason. There was almost a guitar in the background, but the TARDIS kinda just ate it and then they both left. Twilight was insulted again.

How many times can Twilight dance in a four? Trick question - she can't because she's actually a caterpillar. She suddenly grew hungry and became drawn by a three-year-old with some sense of colour and arrangement. It was lol.

There was a huge heart in the background as Authorpoy lost all sense of continuity and just threw upon the paper the images in his mind, which would make the average user shite his punts.

There were four caballeros, but none of them were wearing pants and periodically not skin either. Two were ponies, but two were Frwnch ladies who liked to sing in swing. It was kind of sexy, but the skin disappearing was offlutting. The Ebionites were there, too, with their buddies Hitler and Ringo Starr. Hitler was wearing fake breasts and had changed her first name to Shelby. Ringo Starr was blonde now and had thirteen teeth. Nine of them were straight.

Twilight reached out to touch/have intercourse with her new visitors, but she couldn't comprehend their colors. When she bit into them, they were the consistency of watermemangoeslons and the consistenc of mayonnaise and the consistency of

N*GGERS

Jon no

I couldn't keep on the topic. The topic spin out of control wildly, seemingly driven by a mad hunger or an Aqua Teen Hurger Fos, which is three so far.

Closure.


	4. Just Mid-Reading

Mersidotsen dosidotsen litalamsitivy. Akidelitivitu, wudenshu? Terdelzina hæfshel, terdelpauer. Aliuhaftu du istoridbetwin thalynes, and alwilby und erstud. Itmæby har datferst, butiven tualy iuwilcat chon.

Thissizatru taistintutha myne duvmajik. Thamyne duvmadniss. Thamyne duvunil luzun, aseperaishin frumalthengz fisikl. Iuwilcom tuunders tand, oriuwil nevirescaipfrum thiswurld.


	5. Just The Read of Thing

NEW STORY

It was a warm winter's knight in the ville of pone. Nudity fell from the sky like a bass drum on Stab-Day. There was a very unicorn that was intrinsic to the plot of this story, and her name was Tuairitu-kun~. She had a fur.

Twilight (which is the Amerikan Tuairitu-kun~ for those wondering. Like you, sir, in the purple sweatervest with the scent of failure and sharkbait) was in her book-place of books when a melody happened in her head and she fell over on the floor, screaming and writhing in pure, unadulterated (and very adult-ated) ecstasy. Not the drug, the other thing that ecstasy means. She fell over when her slave, a lizard named Spik, went over to her and told her things.

He told to her, "Be a faucet. It is illegal in Germany, but you can write a thesis on how unfair that is to you."

She shot up. Not the drug, but the other thing. "That is an incredible idea," she replied, and fell into a mess of sobbing and blogging and pony-juice.

Suddenly, without a warn, a large orange orange fell through the roof of the tree (holy shit what) and hit her in the head, making her sob harder about things. The orange was a Jew.

The orange was a Jew, so Twilight picked it up and picked it up with her eating-mandibles and sobbed about things and turned into pony-juice. That happened trust me. When she picked it up, it was a Jew and liked the Steelers and word polls like a poseur fucking loser. Don't kill yourself.

She looked at it and put it into her. Then she went home and cried about it into her pillow and then put the Jew orange orange into her pillow. Then the pillow was a Jew. It suddenly was a different story called 'the invasion of the Jews from outer spizz."

Twilight backed herself away from the yarmulke-d mess of Jew in front of her. The Jew was consuming everything, turning it all into Jew like itself. Bangly-dangly-hair-things popped out from various bedroom furniture's ears, and they all grew beards on their furniture-chins. I'm not even smiling. Do you see my wrist?

Anyways, Twilight backed up into a brick wall that she created with her semen and cocaine pallets. She claimed into her Jew-pillow one last time and jumped into the vortex, sending her careening off the edge of the Twix bar into insanity and loneliness, by Djiis the Lonely One, who licks the puppies.

One time Twilight went on 4chan

Anyways, Twilight in this adaptation of the film is being played by Jack Nicholson because he's the best actor.


End file.
